


Come Home

by Falling_Angel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drunk Dialing, Injury, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Phone Calls & Telephones, Recreational Drug Use, Self-Harm, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, Voicemail, Work In Progress, dark shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-03-05 05:01:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 7,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3107003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falling_Angel/pseuds/Falling_Angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean liked to leave Cas voicemails and pretend the angel still cared about him</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't you Remember

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: READ THE TAGS
> 
> I'm gonna update the tags as I write, but these are just what I know is gonna be in it. The drug and self harm and that stuff tags won't really take effect for a few chapters.
> 
> These chapters are gonna be randomly sized, so some may be hella small
> 
> Title from the One Republic song
> 
> (P.S. Thank you Bethany for being my beta <3)
> 
> <3 Jack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry in advance...
> 
> Title from the Adele song
> 
> <3 Jack

**September 25-** Whoa… it’s hard to believe how weird these last couple of months have been without you around… I’m not sure if you’re watching us or some shit, but in case you aren’t, I’ll fill you in on what’s happened so far.

So when you left, (kinda rude, by the way, just poofing out like that. Just thought I’d let you know,) Sammy and I didn’t know what to do with ourselves. We sat in the bunker for like a week, trying to reach you. I mean, this wasn’t the first time you randomly disappeared on us, but something was a bit… off… with you before you left. You were getting more and more quiet, more distant, not really saying anything unless we asked you something. This had been going on for a while, mind you, but it had gotten to the point where you would barely acknowledge us. Then _poof_. Just gone. So we tried to call you, text you, pray to you, everything. We did a couple cases, just generic ghost and vamp stuff, but it just didn’t feel… right. Things aren’t as fun without you here, they’re pretty boring. Lately, we’ve just been sitting around with nothing to do. Everything’s gone weirdly quiet. But yeah, anyway… We miss you, I miss you. Please come home.

 

 **September 29-** Hi, uh, it’s Dean again. Where are you, man? Sam’s starting to get scared. I’ve been scared for a while, uh, y’know because I worry about you. Sorry that was awkward. Um, I’ve started cooking around here more, mostly because I can only stand take out for so long. I just needed a real meal, y’know? Sam’s started to comb through the archives for the 18 th time this week, desperately trying to find something we can use to contact you. Please come home, Cas. We’re lost around here without you, man. If you’re listening to this, please come home.

 

 **October 4-** Hey Cas, uh, it’s Dean. We finally found a job. Nothing special, a witch decided to start the Halloween season a bit early this year. We’re fine, Sam’s resting because he got a concussion, she really didn’t go down without a fight! Just thought I’d check in, let you know what’s happening. Call me back. Or, I mean, just come home. That would be even better. Ok, bye.

 

 **October 9-** Hey, it’s Dean. Sam wanted to go to the aquarium a couple days ago, fuckin nerd. It was fun, though. Did you know that Salmon can survive in both fresh and salt water? Weird, right? But anyway, that’s what’s been happening. Come home, please. Bye.

 

  **October 16-** Heya Cas, just calling to let you know we miss you. Not much is happening around here, Sammy’s been pretty down lately. We’re doing okay, though. Please come home, man. It’s pretty fuckin boring around here without you. Ok, that’s all, see ya.

 

  **October 18-** Hey, Cas, um it’s Dean. Sam’s in the ER right now, he took a pretty nasty fall down the stairs yesterday. Normally it wouldn’t be a big deal, but they’re solid stone and he hit his head a bunch of times. Poor kid, can’t seem to keep that head of his in check. He’s in pretty bad shape, he only just woke up a couple hours ago. I didn’t, I didn’t sleep last night. Or the night before, but that’s not important. Everything’s gonna be fine, don’t you worry. Hope you’ll come home soon. Love you, man. Bye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, that was emotionally wrecking just to write, knowing what's to come.
> 
> Don't forget to leave your kudos and comment your reactions!
> 
> <3 Jack


	2. Wake Me Up When September Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two! I'm gonna try to keep these semi consistent, but please remind me via comment if I'm taking too long, because school's pretty stressful lately and I may forget. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Title from Green Day, obviously
> 
> Regular text= Dean  
> Bold= Sam
> 
> <3 Jack

**October 20-** Hey, Dean again. Sammy’s healin up well, they let him out this morning. The doctor prescribed him some strong ass fuckin painkillers, so he’s spent most of the day either sleepin on the couch or babbling on about whatever’s on his drugged up mind at the moment. Doc says he’s gonna have to take em for at least a month, but you know Sammy. I’ll betcha by tomorrow he’ll be walkin and talkin like normal. It’ll be good to have that Vicodin shit around, though. We’ve kinda built up an immunity to asprin. Shit, gotta go. The princess is whining again. Love you man. Please come home.

 

 **October 24-** Heya Cas, it’s Dean. So apparently the fall wasn’t as minor as we thought. We went back in yesterday just to do an X-ray and make sure everything’s healing ok, and apparently his skull is bruised, and he just like passed out in the middle of the exam. Doc says the fall bruised his skull, and the bruises didn’t really develop till after we got out. He’s gonna be in here for a few days. Pretty stupid of me, huh? Fell and hit his head on solid stone twice, and I just assumed he’d be fine. Well, anyway, at least he’s resting up. God knows one of us should be. Thank god for caffeine, am I right? Ok, gotta go. Come home soon man, we could really use your angel mojo right now. Love ya, bye.

 

 **October 27-** Hey man, is’ Dean. Sammy’s healin up great, he got down a whole pudding this morning! I didn’t sleep much last night, maybe 2 or so hours. But hey, at least the coffee here’s decent. Haven’t been feelin so hot myself, my head’s been killing me lately. I’d run down and get some advil, but I don’t wanna leave Sam. I’m gonna see if I can get the nurse to grab me some. Please come home, man. Or at least pick up the phone. We need you. Love you man.

 

 **October 31-** Hey Cas, so it sounds like Sam’ll be out of here within a week or two, but the doc said he’d be on stronger meds. Oxycontin, I think he said. Poor kid, he’s gonna be a walking zombie for a bit. I got some decent sleep last night, thank god. My head’s still killin me, though. This whole thing is my fault, I feel like shit about it. I shouldn’ta taken him outa here so quick. Please pick up the phone, man. I need to know you’re ok. Love you.

 

 **November 5-** Hey man, Sammy’s feelin better, he’s talking a lot now. Mostly stupid, random gibberish, but it’s something. ( **HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII CAS COME BACK PLEASE DEAN AND I MISS YOUUUUUUUUUU** ) (Sam, shut up for a sec will ya?) Sorry, he's been yappin away for nearly an hour. Hoping to get him out of here soon, I miss my bed. Please call me back. Love ya, bye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you can see where this is going. They're kinda taking on a mind of their own though, those last 2 entries pretty much wrote themselves. Comment what you think, and don't forget to leave kudos!
> 
> <3 Jack


	3. Tied Together With A Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot starts to set in, and things start to go south. 
> 
> A wild Sam appears!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, sorry this took so long. I've had writers block this whole week, and I just finished writing this like 5 minutes ago. We finally get to hear from Sam. I'm barely even writing this anymore, they're just playing out how they want. I would put like action words (*cough* and *sigh* and shit) but I'd rather you be able to hear those yourself as you read. I'll try to update sooner this time, this story is as much of a rollercoaster for me as I'm hoping it is for you.
> 
> Also, all chapters have and will have titles! The song of each chapter sets the mood for it, so I would listen to it before/while reading
> 
> Title song by Taylor Swift (don't judge me)
> 
> Regular text= Dean  
> Bold= Sam
> 
> <3 Jack

November 8- Heya Cas, uh, the doctor says that Sam’s gonna be out of here on the fourteenth, thank God. This place is starting to give me the creeps. Doesn’t look like they’re dialing back on meds though, which is kinda weird. I don’t really care, I just want him home. Well I want you both home, but I’ll take what I can get. Alright, call me back. Love ya.

November 12- Hey, so Sam’s pretty much functional at this point, they’re finally dialing back on the meds. Here, he wants to say hi. ( **Dean can you stand out there for a sec? Yeah, just for a sec. Thanks.)**   **Heya Cas, I just wanted to say hi. Please come back, man. Things are going to hell here without you. Dean’s not sleeping, he’s barely eating, and he keeps eyeing my IV like he wants it. He’s forcing a smile for me, but it’s barely even there at this point. What happened to you, man? Did we do something? Please come home. Or at least pick up the phone, for God’s sake. Ok, I’m gonna go. All these drugs are makin it hard to stay awake. Please come home.** ( **Dean! I’m done!** Okay,get some rest man. **Speak for yourself.** Shut up, I’m fine.) Hey, it’s me again. Sam’s gonna crash, I’ll call you when we’re home. Please call me back. Love you, bye.

November 14- Heya Cas! We’re home, fucking finally. Sam’s crashed out on the couch, I’m makin some coffee. God, except for taking a piss, I think I left that room like twice. I’m gonna take a long ass shower, but I just wanted to call and letcha know we got home okay. Alright, call me back. Love ya, bye.

November 14- **Hey man, it’s Sam. I woke up like an hour ago, and it sounded like Dean was getting in the shower. Please come home, I’m really scared for Dean. I can hear little sniffles and gasps coming from the bathroom, like he’s crying. I can’t even remember the last time Dean cried like this. Please come back. We need you. I need you. Dean needs you. Please.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do notice how the message endings have started to change ;) Honestly though, when I say it's writing itself, it really is. I didn't plan almost any of this chapter, it just kinda happened. I'm terrified for what happens next. 
> 
> Don't forget to leave kudos and comment your reactions!
> 
> <3


	4. Honeybee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for the short chapter, just wanted to give you something while I work on the next few.
> 
> Song by Lenka, it's more about the feel of the song than the lyrics. Should I make an 8tracks for this?
> 
> <3 Jack

November 17- Hey Cas, how’s it goin? I mean that’s sorta a stupid question, but you get what I- y’know what nevermind. Sam’s currently passed out cold, skull started flarin so I pumped him with meds. We’re doing fine, a bit quiet around here but we’re layin low till Sammy gets back on his feet. It’s weird, we haven’t gotten a single call or any cases in these last coupla months. Hey, have you heard of a band called Fall Out Boy? Dude, so I needed a bit of a change up in my song lineup, and apparently these guys are pretty huge right now. But man they’re great! Never thought I’d say that about modern music, but damn. Alright, call me back. Love ya.

November 20- Oh my god, dude. You gotta help me out here. I’ve been listening to the lil bitch go on and on about law and shit for like 2 hours now. I should’ve given him the Oxycontin, Vicodin ain’t doin shit but make him chatty. Call me back man. Love ya.

November 24- **Hey, Cas. Uh, I’m not sure if you’re even hearing these, but Dean’s not doing so hot. I mean, I’m barely able to make out a full thought with all these drugs, but even I can see how down he is. He’s moping around the bunker, he hasn’t changed since we got back, he’s barely even leaving his room except to grab a beer and slam me with more meds. I don’t get why he won’t let me get them myself, I’m healthy enough to self-medicate. Please call back. Or come back. Or something. Anything. Please.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you can guess based on the tags where this is going... ;)
> 
> Don't forget to leave your kudos and comment what you think!
> 
> <3 Jack


	5. Need You Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I am so sorry! I hit a massive wall, and am only just now able to type anything. I'm gonna give you like 3 chapters here as an apology. Love you! Thanks for reading!
> 
> Title song by Lady Antebellum
> 
> Sorry in advance
> 
> <3 Jack

November 27- Heeeyyyyyyyyyy Cassssssshhhh, how’zit goin? Ssammy’zout cold, and duuuude I am sooooooooooo ddrunk right now. Like really, waaaay drunk. But I am evhery night, sso thhiss isn’t new. *gulp* Dude whhathe fuck hhappen’dta you? You like up and lleft outa nowhere. Whazzit because of that time I ttried’ta kissshyou? It whass, whuzzn’it! Duude I’m waaaay fuggin sorry ‘boutthat, you were just sittin there an’ I whazabit drunk, heeyy jus’like noww! Only I’m waaaaaaaaayyyyyyyy more drrrunk thhan I was then. *gulp* Oh heeeyyy, Casss, guessss what? Those pills the doc gave to Shammmy for his head work grreat! It’s like nothin’n’somethin at the same time! Everythhing’s all weird’n far away’n I cann’even feel nothin! It’s like you ddhidn’even leave! You ssshhhould totally come back man, things’r gointahell without you here. Ppleassse come home, I need you. Like, reeeeeally need you. I llove you, Cass. *gulp* I jjussst love you sshooo much and I needyousomuchand-…………..

November 27- **Hey, uh, Cas. It’s like 4 am and I woke up and Dean’s laying here snoring. I think he’s just passed out drunk, there’s like 2 empty bottles of whisky here. That’s just flat out insane! Anyway, I’m gonna get him to bed. I think he might have called you, his phone is deathgrip clutched in his hand. Cas please come home, this can’t go on much longer. He’s been crying, Cas. He’s laying in a puddle of tears. I didn’t even know that was a real thing. Please, man.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is just the beginning ;) The story is kinda going where it wants to be honest.
> 
> I'm gonna sleep, another will be up tomorrow. Today. Whatever.
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me <3
> 
> <3 Jack


	6. Habits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again. This chapter feels off to me, I'll probably edit/redo it, but I wanted to get something up. More tomorrow <3
> 
> Title by Tove Lo, obviously.
> 
> Seriously, should I make an 8tracks?
> 
> <3 Jack

November 27- Hey, so I just woke up and I think I might have drunk dialed you last night. Dude I’m so so sorry, I’m usually super careful about that kind of thing. I guess Vicodin and whiskey don’t- SHIT DID I JUST SAY THAT OUT LOUD!? Fuck, uh, how do you delete voicemails!? Fuck it, it’s not like you’re getting these anyways. Just me talking to myself, pretending you still care. God, that’s sad, isn’t it? I’ll bet I’m gonna end up going insane and start hearing you on the other end. But anyway, Sam’s doing a little bit better. Still drugged out for the most part, but he’s up and moving when he can. I’ll call have him call as soon as he can. Love you.

December 1- Sam’s starting to get suspicious about why I keep the meds locked up. What should I do?

December 1- **He’s taking my meds, Cas. He’s literally drugging me up and then doing the same to himself. Dude, get your ass back here. Now.**

December 3- We’re out of Oxycontin. Fuck, what am I gonna give to Sam? The doctor is gonna wonder why we need more so quick, what do I do? Vicodin ain’t gonna cut it. Uh, um, I’ll call you back.

December 3- Turns out Zquill works just as well for knocking people out. Who woulda thought?

December 3- Duuuuuuude, Vicodin isn’t half bad. This shit’ll hold me over for a goooood while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you can tell I have a bit of a drug kink... But not in a sexual way more of an angst kink... Sorry to impress that upon you. Anyway, like I said, I might redo this chapter.
> 
> Don't forget to comment and leave kudos <3
> 
> <3 Jack


	7. Carmen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooooooooooooly shit. That's all I can say.
> 
> The 8tracks is up! Now I won't have to type out the song artist anymore.
> 
> http://8tracks.com/falling__angel/fanfic-come-home
> 
> <3 Jack

December 12- We’re out of Vicodin.

December 12- Cas we’re completely out of Vicodin.

December 12- I know what I’m gonna do.

_*click*_

Dean pocketed his cell phone, sighing nervously. He had spiked Sam with the last of the drugs, figuring that 4 pills should knock him out for at least a day. He may have mixed some Zquill in there, but he was intent on ignoring that. He needed a fix. _God,_ he thought, _how pathetic. Hooked on prescription meds that aren’t even yours._ He scratched at the back of his neck, stopping only to turn and lock the bunker door.   _Damn, shoulda grabbed another flannel. It’s freezing out here._ He groaned, opening the door to the impala. _Dude, you already have like 12 on. You and your fucking layers._ He started the car, and drove onto the road with one hand on the steering wheel and one itching his thigh. _Shut up._

Dean got to the pharmacy about half past 2. He didn’t have to worry about being quiet, nobody in this small little town is up past 9. He jimmied the lock on the door in about 8 seconds flat, the old lock barely showing any resistance. _Nice._ Sauntering inside, the elder brother glanced around, spotting a small counter in the back of the dark CVS. He grabbed a basket, plucking various snacks from the aisles as he made his way down to the faded wooden kiosk. _Jesus Christ, this place really needs a remodel. Not even an alarm. Just a bell._ He hopped the counter, flicking on his phone light to see what the different tags read. After a while, he realized that the section he was in was entirely pain meds, and, adjusting his phone so it was held between his shoulder and his chin, plucked various bottles off the wall, reading the labels as he went. _Morphine, yes. Vicodin, duh. Ooh shit, Dilaudid. Save that for a rainy day._ He eventually found the Oxycontin, and scooped all the bottles into the basket. _Now that I think about it,_ he backpedaled, grabbing the rest of the dilaudid. _Strong shit._ He made his way back down to the front, eating a bag of gummy bears as he went. _No pie, damn._ He carefully closed the door, turned, popped a Vicodin, and headed towards the Impala.

Just as he was about to open the door, he noticed something. A group of young adults were huddled around a guy who seemed to be passing stuff out. Dean hesitated.

_Don’t do it._

_Do it._

_Don’t do it._

_Do it._

_Don’t do it._

_Do it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wrote itself.
> 
> <3 Jack


	8. Heroin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi omg so sorry for the lack of updates, things have been getting stressful around here. Basically, I'm gonna have to do twice the school in half the time, plus I'm not gonna get any break over summer :(
> 
> Title by The Velvet Underground
> 
> 8tracks: www.8tracks.com/falling__angel/fanfic-come-home
> 
> <3 to Bethany for proofreading

December 22- **Cas, something’s wrong. Like really wrong. I think Dean’s been drugging me. Like I’m pretty much fully functional, but every time I wake up he’s there with another round of something or other for me to take. And since when did we have such an extensive collection of drugs? Please come back man, this is getting out of hand.**

December 23- Duuuude, fuck pills, this is a whole new level.

December 24- **[** whisper **]** **Holy shit, dude. I woke up and Dean wasn’t there, so I started checking around, and there’s bottles everywhere! A few of them are open, some are spilling out who knows what, but holy shit! Did he rob a fucking drug store? Hold on, shit he’s coming. I’m just gonna- *** rustle *** *** rustle *****

Mornin’ sleepin beauty! Time for your next round?

**Dude, I’m fine. I’ve been fine! I haven’t needed meds since like two weeks ago!**

Aw c’mon Sammy, course you need ‘em! That’s when we got back!

**Dean, I was let out a month ago.**

Nah man, it’s just the drugs messin with your head. Here *pop* *shake* take these.

**Dude, I’m not taking those! What the fuck’s going on!?**

Dammit, Sam! Take the fuckin pills!

**Dean, what the fuck’s wrong with you!? I don’t need those, we got back a month ago!**

Bullshit! It’s barely been two weeks!

**Look at the Calendar! Tomorrow’s Christmas, for god’s sake!**

What the- *rustle* *click*What!? Ah fuck it, who cares what today is. Take these and get some fuckin rest!

**Dude, what the fuck!? What’s going on here Dean!?**

Dammit Sam- *rustle* *prick*

  **Ow! Dude, what the fuck was that!?**

That, Sammy, is what’s going on here. *muffled prick*

**Is that- DUDE, HEROIN!? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?**

Relax, Sammy, we’re gonna have a good time.

*crash*

*beep*

Dean picked up Sam’s phone. “FUCK!” seeing the _call end_ sign flash, he scrolled through to recent calls. Seeing that the call was just to Cas, he relaxed and set the phone on the side table. He hoisted his now limp brother onto the couch, and sighed, looking into the glazed, vacant eyes. He hated to do it, especially because he knew sharing needles could be dangerous, but he was desperate. _Good thing I had a double hit ready._ He sat back in the recliner by the sofa, and melted away into his own high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one feels off to me...
> 
> Tell me what you think, and don't forget to leave kudos if you're enjoying it!
> 
> <3 Jack


	9. Sister Morphine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JFC I just wrote this and it deleted itself, luckily I copied it beforehand :)
> 
> Sorry it's been so long, things are doing better here for now and my writer's block is gone :D Expect 2 or 3 chapters in the next couple of days, I'm on a roll right now.
> 
> All the title songs are on my 8tracks: http://8tracks.com/falling__angel/fanfic-come-home
> 
> ^please use^
> 
> <3 Jack
> 
> *EDIT* I added a sentence at the end for clarification for the next chapter :)

December 25- Agh, my neck- “WHAT THE FUCK!?” Sam bolted up off the couch, surveying the scene around him. Vases were smashed, tables and chairs were overturned, and there were pills everywhere. On the ground, on tables, forming small mountains of white and red. The child locked bottles, which were still safely fastened, were rolling around aimlessly on the wooden floor. “Dean!” Sam bolted down the hallway, desperately searching for his brother and ignoring the slight itch beneath his skin. “Dean!? Dean answer me!” Sam threw open doors as he ran, stopping momentarily to peer inside and continuing on in vain.  
“DEAN!” Dean felt his brother shaking him, but he may as well be a million miles away. Dean felt everything, he felt nothing. He felt Sam’s tears crash down on his chin, he felt Sam’s too tight grip. He felt the bed beneath him, and he felt the hit pulsing through his veins. But it didn’t sink in. He registered the sensations, but he was completely numb. So, so very numb. Sweet, beautiful numbness. No pain, no emotion, no feeling, nothing. He couldn’t feel anything, and nothing had ever felt better. He felt his breathing start to stutter, short, fast, short, fast, never enough air. He started shaking, slowly at first but soon was writhing on the bed. He heard his brother screaming his name, trying to stop his writhes and sobbing all the time. But he didn’t feel it. His eyes slowly rolled back into his head. Faintly, he heard Sam yelling to what he assumed was 911. But he felt nothing for it. He couldn’t feel anything.

Nothing.

At.

All.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes about heroin (Because the effects may seem a bit weird)  
> Keep in mind that, since Dean has been using it for a while now, his tolerance has significantly increased and he therefore needs more and more each time. Sam had never used it, so one of Dean's large hits completely smacked him. Dean was bordering overdose anyway, and that amount was enough to completely fuck Sam over. Dean finally did overdose here, obviously, and the effects are what I imagine heroin overdose is like, only I couldn't properly word how I imagine it. I tried, though.
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me on this <3
> 
> <3 Jack
> 
> P.S.- Read the timestamps from the chapter before each time, and the timestamps in each entry. They convey a lot in themselves.


	10. Terrible Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk how I feel about this one
> 
> All title songs are on 8tracks:
> 
> www.8tracks.com/falling__angel/fanfic-come-home
> 
> ^^^ Use this shit it's infuriating to make^^^

December 26- **Hey Cas, so, uh, I don’t really know how to say this, but just in case you’re listening, Dean’s in the hospital currently. De ja vu, huh? Anyways, I woke up this morning around 4, oh, yeah by the way he’s been drugging me for like months. Sorry, getting off track. Uh, oh. Yeah. The bunker was completely trashed. Tables were flipped, chairs were like tossed at the walls, everything. There were pills everywhere! Like the entire floor was littered with them. God, I was scared, man. I finally found him, and oh my god. He’s been using heroin for who knows how long now, and I guess he was overdosing? I don’t think writhing and dribbling is a normal effect. I called 911, and long story short Dean’s gonna have to go through rehab. I’ve been talking to the doctor, and she said that she would let us try to deal with it ourselves. But dude I’m scared. He fucking drugged me! I mean he’d been doing it for 2 months, but heroin? That’s fucked up. *muffled background rustling*** (Sammy?) **Shit, uh, gotta go, he’s waking up. Merry Christmas, Cas.**

December 30- Dude, you gotta help me. They’re making me do fuckin rehab! I mean I’m not going to a clinic or anything, but still. I can’t go through rehab! You gotta help me, babe. Please.

December 31- Hhhheeyyyya Casshh, guess what? I’s fuckin New Yearss! Happy New Years! Sammy’szout for the night, an’ I thought I’d ccshelebrate. Really ain’t much to cshelebrate, is’er? I’mma fuckin drugee, Ssam’s breakin his back tryin’ta fix me, n’you’re off ssomewhere doin who knows what. I’safuckin nightmare. Pleasse come home, Cas. I need you. I love you. Like a lot. Like a lot a lot. Like a whoooole fuck ton a lot. I love your hair, your eyess, god your fuckin’ eyes, man’. I love y’r cute lil deep voicce, *sniff* I love you Casss! *sniff* Pleas-s-s-e come *sniff* P-p-p-pleassse. *soft whimper* Pleassse……

.

*sniff*

.

*beep*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else feel like this one isn't up to par? Idk I might redo it :/
> 
> Kudos and comments and bookmarks and all that jazz are very much appreciated :D
> 
> <3 Jack


	11. Hey Jude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title says it all <3
> 
> Sorry for not posting much recently, I've had a shit ton of work in the last couple weeks :/ I'm going to San Fransisco for a couple days on Monday (Yay Spring Break!) So I'll be sure to write as much as possible. Thank you for not giving up on me!
> 
> Hey Jude is by the Beatles (Mary's song I like to call it)
> 
> 8tracks playlist (listen to the title songs to get in the mood for the chapter): http://8tracks.com/falling__angel/fanfic-come-home
> 
> <3 Jack

January 4- Babe this is hard. Is this supposed to be hard? I’m sweating a lot. Is that normal? I don’t like rehab. I feel like I have bugs all over me and under my skin and my throat is like the Sahara in July. Sammy says this is what withdrawal feels like. I’m never gonna make fun of him for the demon blood thing again, this is hell. I hope this is it. Please tell me this is it. I don’t think there’s anything worse than this. Call me back, love you.

 

 January 7- I was wrong. This is worse. This is so so so so so much worse holy fuck. Holy fucking shit. Is it possible for bugs to actually breed under your skin? I think that happened to me. Hoooooooly fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK THIS IS HELL!

 

 January 9- *whimper* Please answer. Please. I need you. I need you here, I need you with me, I need you to help me scratch these BUGS IN MY ARM! *scritch scritch* Please answer. Or come home. Yeah, come home that’s it. And bring it with you. I need it. I need it I need it I need it, I need it so bad oh my god I need it to stop the pain and the hurt and the bugs and the voices and oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god *sniff* ple- please.. Please I love you I miss you I need you oh my god please.. Sammy’s no help at all, *sniff* *scoff* he just sits out there on the phone all day talking with doctors and helping Crowley with whatever the fuck he needs help with when he should be in HERE BRINGING ME MY STUFF! Please please please please please please please please please…

*beep*

 

January 13- “Hey Jude, don’t make it bad.” Dean sat curled up in the corner, slowly rocking himself and singing softly to himself. “Take a sad song and make it better.” He scratched at the raw red flesh on his arm, shaking slightly as he wept. “Remember to let her into your heart…” he let out a soft ragged weep. He closed his eyes and tried to remember back when his mom would hold him in her arms and sing to him until he fell asleep. Slowly looking up, he glanced shakily around his dark, disheveled room. Noticing a glint of silver poking out of his duffle, he suddenly got a dark idea. Slowly, shakily, he sniffled as he crawled over to the bag and pulled out the knife. _Do it._  "No, please don't.." _It’ll get rid of the bugs and the hurt and the pain and the emptiness._ He lifted his jittery arm, tears streaming down his cheeks and landing onto his sleeve as he pushed it up. Trying to steady his trembling wrist, he sniffled as he readied the blade. “Then you can start to make it better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it, I really put my heart and soul into this one <3
> 
> Kudos, comment, subscribe because apparently that's a thing, etc.
> 
> <3 Jack


	12. Cruel World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oMG AN UPDATE WHOA whO WOuLD'VE IMAGINED THIS WOULD HAPpEN!!!!!!!!1!1!!!1111!!
> 
> This Chapter will make you feel like shit
> 
> 8tracks (please use this)- www.8tracks.com/falling__angel/fanfic-come-home
> 
> I swear on my dick that I'll update more frequently, I have a shit ton of backwork I'm trying to make up :/
> 
> <3 Jack

January 15- H-hey Cas, how’s it goin’? Fuck, I don’t know why I asked that. It’s not like you can answer. Fuck, I’m such a fucking idiot. God. I’m doing fine, resting up, staying healthy, going through hell. The usual. Sam’s been super busy with paperwork n’shit, apparently rehab at home can be dangerous? I don’t know how, I’m doing f-fine. We’ve been eating nothing but pizza lately, which I guess is- *crash* SHIT! God fuck I’m such a fucking idiot, can’t even hold a fucking plate without fucking up. Such a waste. Ah, um, b-but anyway, things are going pretty good over here. Just- *sigh* just trying to keep my mind off the bugs. God, it itches. It itches so fucking badly oh my god. I scratch and scratch and scratch and the only thing that fixes it- uh, sorry, um, ah. I gotta go… Love you.

January 17- Heya Cas, just a quick update on what’s going on. We’ve got Dean doing at- home rehab, which the doctor was skeptical about because apparently “there’s too much opportunity to backtrack,” “Other problems can develop,” all that shit. He just doesn’t know what we’ve been through. We can handle this no problem. Dean’s not doing too hot, though. But I guess that’s kinda expected. He doesn’t leave his room much, I can hear him crying at night. It’s just stressful, you know? Trying to be there for him and at the same time do all this fuckin paperwork. We’ll get through it though. Please come back, man. Dean needs you.

January 18- What a fucking loser. Dean tossed the notebook aside, the pen following close behind. He got up and sauntered over to the bathroom, flicking on the blinding light. Fucking waste of space with your shitty ass poetry. Like some fucking emo high school freshman. He squinted at himself in the mirror, the white light a stark contrast from the dim lighting of his bedroom. Eyes adjusted, he took himself in. God, you look like shit. Pale, sunken in features. Unhealthily skinny, collarbones jutting out slightly. Serves you right. Like you deserved that pizza anyway. Fucking degenerate. His fingertips fluttered over the scars lining his wrist, stopping for a moment to scratch at the bugs. Bloodshot eyes, tear streaked cheeks, hair greasy and unkempt. He lifted his shirt slightly, examining the marks on his stomach. That was for eating when you weren’t supposed to. He padded back into his room, socks pat pat patting against the floor. He picked up the tipped over bottle of whiskey, huffing mournfully at the unreachable bit at the bottom. Throwing on a hoodie to cover his arms, he creaked open his door and ventured out into the living room. 

Piff piff piff the soft cotton of his pajama pants swished against itself, and Sam turned to see his brother headed towards the kitchen. Sighing sadly, he stood up and followed after him. Walking into the kitchen, he watched his brother open and close the various drink cabinets.   
“You know, you’re not supposed to be drinking.” He sauntered over to Dean, who was opening a bottle of Jack Daniels.  
“Oh please, it may as well be water my liver is so busted.” The elder brother turned and gave his brother a smirk and turned back to his bottle. “Besides, you’re one to talk, mister wash my pills down with alcohol. And you say I’m bad.” Sam looked his brother over sadly, taking in the slouch in his shoulders and the paleness of his skin. It took everything he had not to cry.  
“I guess. Really though, take it easy. You’re in rehab, remember?” Dean popped open the bottle, and turned to his brother. Taking a large swig, he gave Sam a look of utter pain.  
“I don’t think I’d ever forget, Sammy.” Turning slowly, he made his way back to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liek if u cri evertim
> 
> <3 Jack


	13. Not About Angels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took so long, I meant to post it a week ago but I ended up going to camp for a week :/ Here it is! Expect a new one soon <3

January 23- “Hey Dean,” Sam knocked gently on his older brother’s door. “I ordered some pizza.” Not hearing any response, Sam knocked again. “Dean,” He creaked the door open. “Come get a-“ He stopped, taking in the scene. Empty bottles strewn about, no light except for the small lamp on the bedside table. His brother, curled up in a ball in pajama bottoms and a hoodie, curled up loosely in the corner, shaking with small sniffles. Sam had to fight down tears. How had he let it get this bad? Why hadn’t he seen how much pain his brother was in? He padded over to his brother’s side, and sat down next to him. Dean leaned into Sam, wrapping his arms around him like a child. Sam embraced his brother, holding him as he began crying. Hard sobs wracked Dean’s body, tears staining his younger brother’s flannel as he grasped tighter. Tears began to trickle down Sam’s cheeks, continuing to rock his brother and quietly comforting him with small shushes. “It’s okay,” Sam whispered. “It’s okay.” Dean wept harder, burying his face in the crook of his brother’s neck. “Shhh,” Sam breathed. “Shhhh.”  
“I miss him.” Dean quietly croaked, heaving and sniffling.  
“I know. I know.”  
“I miss his smile, I miss his eyes, I miss everything about him.”  
“I know. I do to.” They sat there for a while, the constant “Shhh” from Sam and rocking slowly calming his older brother.  
“Why did he leave?” Dean whispered, stifling a sob.  
“I don’t know.”  
“Why did he leave me?”  
“I don’t know, I don’t know.” Dean pulled away from his younger brother, wiping his cheeks and nose on the sleeve of his sweater.  
“I love him.”  
“I know.”  
“I love him so much and he left me and now I can’t do anything and I’m going crazy and he won’t answer. Why won’t he answer? I left him a million messages and I keep asking him to come home and answer and he won’t and it’s tearing me apart and-“ He broke down sobbing.  
“Hey, hey, shhhh,” Sam pulled his brother back into his embrace, resting his chin on his shoulder as he rocked him. “Shhhh, it’s okay. We’re okay. We’re gonna get through this. We can get through this.” Dean quieted slowly, shaking and heaving with no tears left. “Hey,” Sam pulled them apart again. “I ordered us some pizza.” He stood, helping his brother up. “I got you your favorite, and we can try to find some way of finding Cas. Sound like a plan?” Dean sniffled, drying his eyes one last time.  
“Sure. I guess that sounds okay.”  
“Good.” Sam put an arm around his older brother, and they made their way to the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone care about the 8tracks or should I just take it down? It's a bit of a hassle and nobody bothers to use it.
> 
> <3 Jack


	14. Dark Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here! I sat down last night and wrote, and wrote, and wrote. It's long, but goddamnit you guys deserve a long one for putting up with my bullshit. The plot advances!
> 
> Title song by Lana Del Rey

February 2- Dean was losing it. He busied himself with reading, scouring the library, the files, searching for anything that might hold a clue as to what could be trapping Cas. But it was hard to ignore the noises. The first time it happened, he jumped, startled, frantically looking around for any sign of his angel. After a good 10 minutes of running around the bunker screaming “CAS!” “CAS WHERE ARE YOU!” “CAS PLEASE!” He broke down sobbing, leading to Sam eventually finding him curled up in the corner of a hall. Rocking his older brother and gently shushing him, he asked what happened.

“A FLUTTER!”

“A what?”

“I HEARD A FLUTTER!”

“Dean what are you talking about?”

“I HEARD HIS WINGS FLUTTER AND I THOUGHT HE WAS BACK AND I LOOKED EVERYWHERE BUT HE ISN’T HERE WHY ISN’T HE HERE WHY HASN’T HE COME BACK WHAT DID I DO TO MAKE HIM LEAVE!?”

“Dean, dean-“ Sam was cut off by his brother’s cries, filling the empty halls. “Shh, shhh, Dean it’s okay, it was probably just the wind-“

“WHY WON’T HE COME BACK!?”

“Shh, Dean we’re gonna find him, shhh it’s okay.” Dean eventually settled, quivering in his younger brother’s arms.

A week later, and things had only gotten worse. At first, Dean tried to ignore the flutters. That part was easy. A move in rooms here, a temple rub there, he could cope. But it was when he heard that first “Dean!” that he lost it, tearing through the corridors in a frantic attempt at finding his lost angel. Sam was becoming more and more convinced that it was a combination of the drugs, alcohol, and depression that was causing Dean’s auditory hallucinations. He had resorted to a 24/7 watch of his brother, letting him out of his sight only to shower and pee. It wasn’t until the ninth day, when he back from the bathroom to find his brother shaking against the library bookshelf whispering “Cas,” “Cas come back” that he realized that his brother’s paracusia may not be as crazy as he initially thought.

“Dean.”

“He’s in danger!”

“Dean what did you hear?”

“He was crying for help, he was calling for me!”

“Dean, calm down. What did you hear Cas say?” Dean sat up, taking a deep breath and attempting to quell his shaking hands.

“He was crying, he was calling “Dean, help!” He’s in pain!” Sam sat back, letting his feet out from under him as he processed what was just said.

“Do you think… Do you think he’s in danger?”

“Well obviously! He’s not strolling through heaven, that’s for damn sure!” Dean went red, standing and turning to walk to the door.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Sam followed after, trailing his older brother down the labyrinth of corridors towards what he assumed to be the cabinet where they kept the summoning supplies.

“I’m summoning Crowley, something we should’ve done a week ago.”

“You could just call him, you know.”

“Yeah, well I haven’t been having the best luck with phones lately.” Dean grabbed the bowl and the bottle of blood, along with the other standard summoning ingredients. He tossed the bowl onto the concrete floor, pouring a sizeable amount of blood in and tossing some herbs and bones into the basin. He quickly sketched out the necessary sigil, tossing in a match as Sam watched with a look of wary annoyance. The flame ignited with a flash.

“I have a cell phone, you know.”

 

“Where’s Cas?” Dean rose, turning to face the short man and crossing his arms.

“No idea.” He sniffed at the air, scoffing and covering his nose. “My god, when was the last time you showered?”

“Where is Cas!” Dean yelled straight into Crowley’s face, causing the king to reel back and wave away the stench.

“For god’s sake, brush your teeth! I don’t know where your angel is!” He pinched his nose, breathing through his mouth for a moment. “Moose,” he turned to Sam, who grimaced slightly at the nickname. “What’s wrong with the man?”

“Cas has been missing for months, we thought you’d have known by now. Dean has been hearing him in the past week, and we think he might be in trouble. Speaking of which, where have you been?”

“Contrary to popular belief, I do have a full time job. Hell doesn’t run itself, you know.” The demon sighed and began rifling through shelves, occasionally picking something up and most of the time putting it back. “Are you sure he isn’t just going crazy? He certainly looks the part.”

“Hey!” Dean shouted, looking down at his ragged hoodie and sweatpants.

“Oh quiet, you know it’s true.” Crowley walked towards a small table, dropping various containers and jars onto it.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked for the second time that night, the brothers sauntering over to watch.

“Finding your abhorrent angel, that’s what I’m doing. Honestly, the simplest spell and you feel the need to call me.” Tossing in bits and pinches of different herbs and powders, he continued ranting. “I have hearts to judge! Souls to torment! It’s not all bonfires and orgies being a demon, it’s a lot of goddamn paperwork is what it is!” He tossed in a match angrily, rolling out a world map. The map ignited, similarly to how Ruby located Dean. It burned slowly inward, eventually stopping halfway through. After a few seconds, the flames sparked and the map began to burn outward from the center. Huffing, Crowley swiped the ashes onto the floor and stamped them out.

“He’s nowhere.”

“What?” Dean stepped forward, grabbing the jars to put back in their spots. “What do you mean he’s nowhere?”

“He’s either dead, in heaven, or being protected from location. The map would have shown the nearest gate to heaven, and there’s no protection strong enough to protect against that tracking spell. So he’s either dead, or nowhere! Now, if you excuse me, I have to get back to my office. He walked past and behind the brothers, and was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next will come soon, and you're not even ready for what's about to happen ;)
> 
> <3 Jack


	15. Soon...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK BITCHES!!!

Hello to the two people who will have stuck with me all this time. It is I, your illustrious author of angst! After nearly 2/3 of a year, I've been feeling a hole in my life. Something missing, you might say. Well, I thought about it, and I discovered it was my lack of writing! It seems I've once again been struck with the need to create, so I'll be picking this story up again. I've grown a lot over this year, and I've definitely improved my craft. This story may take a different turn than I originally planned, so any of you who were desperately awaiting the end of the slow burn, rejoice! I just might pick up the pace- slightly ;) Expect updates, and expect lots of them! I'm back bitches!  
<3 Jack


	16. Echo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song- Echo by Jason Walker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to tease you ;)

February 2-

“DEAN!”

“SHUT UP. He won’t hear you, we’ve been over this a hundred times.”

“DEAN! DEAN PLEASE-“

“SHUT. UP.” The man’s fist collided with Cas’ temple, and he heard a sickening crack. “There. That should keep you quiet for a while.” The shadowy figure walked off with a scoff. “God, angels are just infuriating to keep locked up! I had better get a promotion for this.”

“Dean…” Cas muttered, his vision fading. “Dean… help…” He groaned and rolled over on his side, limbs flopping uselessly onto the concrete floor as the world tumbled into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> `More to come...  
> <3 Jack


	17. A Couple Changes

Hi hello, Jack here. No, I didn't just tease you with a chapter and then leave the story again, don't worry. My beta hasn't replied to me in two weeks, and I've been waiting for their stamp of approval on the next chapter. So, in the meantime, my lovely friend Haelley will be stepping in as my beta/editor! Thank you, my love, I don't know what I would do without you <3

Second: I started writing this story in 2014, and at the time I was about 14 and had no clue what I was doing. So, in leu of constant updates, I will be periodically going back and fixing/editing chapters, just to make them a bit less.. cringey. (Especially those two drunk chapters, god, what was I thinking?) It won't affect the actual story at all, but I would recommend slowly rereading through this as I edit. If nothing else, it will at least hold you over until the next update ;)

Thank you for sticking with me, friends. Expect a new chapter (and an edit to the first) within a couple days!

-Jack <3


	18. Breathe Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at it with those updates <3
> 
> Song is Breathe Me by Sia

February 9- Dean was a wreck. Since hearing Cas that first time, the cries for help had been coming more and more often, and their tone shifted every time. Sometimes loud and desperate, others fleeting whispers that made the hair on the back of Dean’s neck stand on end. But always the same. Always “Dean, help!” or “Please, Dean” or sometimes just a continuous stream of soft, breathy ‘Dean’s that were punctuated with tears and whimpers. Who the tears and whimpers were from, shifted, sometimes from Cas and usually from Dean. Screams and cries he could deal with, but the soft, pleading string of words was soul-crushing.

Instead of becoming easier to cope with as they came along, each call seemed to be harder to deal with than the last. Dean couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t eat, and every time he tried to work, another cry would sound in his inner ear, and he would retreat to his room, curling up in a ball on his bed and sobbing into his pillow as he heard the tortured moans of his angel. His knife became his ear plugs, and his so-called rehab was all but forgotten. He longed to end it all, the cries were a daily torture that only increased in repetition as the week had gone on. But he was afraid, the thought of not hearing his lover’s voice again was even less bearable than hearing the voice itself. It was a paradox, an endless cycle of attempting to find someone and having them stop your progress with their own cries for help. He etched more and more marks into his skin, longing for the relief of drugs but refusing to use them because of the eerie silence they brought with them. Without medication, he was in constant pain. But when he did decide to take the plunge and down a few oxycotin, he ended up in the exact same spot, only this time the words whispered into the pillow were “please, please come back, please let me hear you, please, please, please…”

February 13- The voice stopped. After a night of endless “Dean, dean, dean, dean,” it took him a minute to realize that he was no longer hearing the Angel’s voice, but rather had just gotten so accustomed to it over the past few hours that his brain had carried on the rhythm long after it had ended. “Finally, thank god.” Dean thought to himself, untangling his limbs from the sheets and putting on his favorite hoodie, he padded out to the kitchen. He was famished. In the short times between Cas’ now nearly ever-present babbling and calling, Dean had been attempting to force himself to eat. He grabbed a loaf of bread from the fridge, a half gone bag of parmesan cheese that Sam had decided was a good idea to have in the house, and set to work making his current preferred food: cheesy bread and butter. He lathered on a healthy amount of butter, heaped the cheese onto the sourdough, and popped it in the microwave. As he watched the cheese melt, he contemplated why he let Sam turn their pantry into a suburban mom’s paradise. Probably because you haven’t been eating anything except bread with too much cheese on it for the past week. Fair, but that didn’t mean he was free to fill our refrigerator with such atrocities as red wine vinegar. The microwave beeped, and, grabbing his bubbling, fatty goodness on a plate, he headed into the living room and plopped down on the couch. He figured he had a good hour or so until the voice started back up, so he intended to rest and relax for what little time he could.

But the cries didn’t come back. Not an hour later, when Dean was passed out on the couch. Not four hours later, when Dean had decided he was in desperate need a shower. Not even later that night, when he had decided he was safe to go and help Sam dig through old files in the basement to look for anything that might tell them just where the hell Cas had disappeared to.  
“Even angels get tired, Dean. Maybe he’s just out of breath or something.” Dean gave his brother a halfhearted, playful shove, appreciating the attempt at lightening the mood.  
“Yeah, maybe.”  
Hopefully.


End file.
